Suffered Gains
by CaffeineCookie
Summary: My take on the WIKTT Adoption Challenge. Rated R for later chapters. Title subject to change. HGSS R&R please
1. Suffered Gains

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.  
  
Chapter 1- Suffered Gains  
  
"Just one more push!"  
  
Suddenly, the infirmary echoed with the first wail of a newborn baby, and Hermione fell back onto the pillow in exhaustion.  
  
"It's a girl," Madam Pomfrey announced as she rested the bundle in Hermione's weak arms. A faint smile appeared on her lips, which was a rare sight in light of current events.  
  
As she was taken by sleep, her last conscious thought was one that had occupied her mind many times before; who was her baby girls father?  
  
Madam Pomfrey removed the baby from Hermione's arms after she was sure she was asleep. She sympathized with Hermione a great deal, as she did with many these days.  
  
The war had been over for about two months now, and everyone suffered great loses, or in Hermione's case, suffered gains. Perhaps that's why Hermione had decided to keep the child, because so many other lives had been lost.  
  
In any other case, not knowing who your baby's father is would be a disgrace; pinpointing you as a girl who slept around, but this was not Hermione's situation. That didn't mean she was saved from the public humiliation in any way.  
  
The true story was that she had been abducted by death eaters and taken to Voldemort personally for questioning. When she refused to tell him anything, he attempted to read her mind. Luckily, all order members had decided it necessary to learn to deflect such attacks on the psyche.  
  
The last thing she recalled about that fateful evening was Voldemort ordering them not to kill her, and to make sure that she made it back to her friends. That didn't include any guidelines as to what they could do to her though. After that she lost all consciousness; an inevitable side effect of being brutally tortured.  
  
She was found, still unconscious, bound to the Hogwarts gates naked, covered in dried blood and bruises. A week later she awoke in the Hogwarts infirmary. The task of telling her what current state she was in was passed to Ginny Weasley, a close friend. No authority figures could get away from the war long enough to address the situation, and Madam Pomfrey openly expressed that she 'just couldn't' tell Hermione.  
  
So it was from Ginny that Hermione found out she was pregnant. From Madam Pomfrey's examinations, it was obvious that she had been raped multiple times, by different men. It was impossible to determine who the baby belonged to.  
  
Hermione was visited by Professor Severus Snape several days later. He laid her choices before her. She could abort or have the baby. If she chose to abort, it would be somewhat simpler than muggle abortion; she would simply drink a potion that would cause her to miscarry. It would definitely not be painless by any means. In the event that she chose to keep the child, then she would have another choice; placing the child up for adoption or keeping it.  
  
The potion was brewed and Hermione placed the vial to her lips, but couldn't bring herself to drink it. She told the perturbed potions master that she had changed her mind. She couldn't say whether she would keep the child or not, but she definitely was going to HAVE the baby.  
  
Because of the war, the Trios sixth year had been put on hold, because all the teachers, and any seventh year student volunteers, were away fighting. Everyone had naturally assumed that the warfare would take place near Hogwarts, but it hadn't. The dark Lord had strategically targeted wizarding communities in America. Ten different locations were ravaged on the same day, and it became obvious that America was the dark lords play ground of choice.  
  
While everyone who was of any use was over seas fighting, attacks ran rampant. The total number of deaths was uncertain, but between both countries the count was pressing thousands.  
  
And by the time the war was over, one problem was obvious; the children. Children from both sides of the war were left parentless. Appalling as it seemed, children of death eaters were kept together in lower quality establishments. Not much real news of their situation was leaked, but stories of torture spread like wildfire.  
  
Any form of wizarding government in America had been destroyed, so all magical orphans were being portkeyed over. There was really no other course of action to take; there was no one else to take charge of them.  
  
Orphanages were overflowing with two children to a bed and such. Any place that could house children had been filled to the maximum, including Hogwarts. Children had had to be moved out of the infirmary before Hermione could give birth; they had waited in a corridor outside. That's how bad it really was.  
  
And no one really knew what was going to happen. Not many people put much faith in the Ministry anymore, not after the way they had handled Voldemort's return. One thing was for sure, and that was that something was going to have to be done, and soon. Hermione's seventh year would start in less than two weeks, and these children weren't going anywhere that fast.  
  
3 weeks later- The Great Hall  
  
Harry bounced a screaming baby Gwen on his knee while Hermione dug around in the baby bag for a pacifier. In the end Hermione had named her new baby girl Gwendolyn Love Granger. Love came on a whim, because she saw her as somewhat of a love child, though she hadn't exactly been conceived in love.  
  
Gwen was the epitome of crybabies. It seamed that she had never shut her mouth ever since the minute she had popped out. You could see prominent dark bags under Hermione's eyes. At first everyone had been enchanted by the presence of a baby, but now people seamed to find somewhere else to be, and Hermione couldn't blame them.  
  
"Hurry up Hermione!" Ron yelled, covering his ears.  
  
"I can't find it," Hermione wailed, starting to cry herself. She grabbed the baby up from Harry and began to walk back and forth bouncing her up and down. It did nothing to stop the crying.  
  
The teachers all watched this spectacle from the head table with varying degrees of sympathy. Severus Snape was the only one who took action though. Displaying the usual graceful intimidating stance, he marched meaningfully towards Hermione.  
  
"Give me THAT baby, NOW," He barked. The baby stopped crying for a few seconds, startled by Snape, but immediately took up the howling again. Hermione handed the baby over, somewhat more quickly than most would expect a mother handing over a child to Snape.  
  
He took the screaming heap to the closest table and laid it down. Then he pointed his wand, whispered a spell, and silence followed. Gwen's mouth kept moving, arms and legs flying, but no sound came.  
  
"Have you dunderheads learned nothing? Silencing charms are third year level spells," Snape said bitingly.  
  
"I... I never thought of that..." Hermione stuttered.  
  
"You seem to have lost all capacity to think Ms. Granger. If you had thought this through, you might not be in this position now," He hissed.  
  
What he said had some truth to it. She hadn't had the heart to abort, and now she was stuck with Gwen. The Ministry had passed a law stating that new parents would no longer have the option to put children up for adoption, because there were already too many kids for them to handle.  
  
As Snape stalked back up to the Head Table, Hermione muttered a curt thank you.  
  
"Mails here," Ron said glumly, as owls began to fly in to the hall. Mai laws a sad affair, because each issue of the Daily Prophet was thick with names of newly identified bodies. It was especially heartbreaking for some because their parents, brothers, or sisters were missing in action, and the fear that their names might turn up in the paper haunted them.  
  
An edition of the Daily Prophet tipped Harry's glass of Pumpkin Juice as it made its landing in front of them. All over the room people were already whispering and muttering about today's headline:  
  
The Adoption Act  
Due to the alarming number of parentless children as a result of the  
war, the Adoption Act was proposed by our very own Minister Fudge.  
Ministry Officials voted yesterday, and the act was passed. The  
guidelines are as follows:  
  
Everyone above 20 years of age that is not attending University must  
take in at least one child (anyone below 17 years of age), unless they  
already have at least two children in their care. Married couples are  
only required to take in one child. Those who are over the age of 80  
may choose to not adopt if they so choose.  
  
All Wizards and Witches to which this new law applies will be sent a  
notice by mail telling when and where their interviews will be held.  
Further details will be listed in the notices, or you can mail the  
Information Department at the Ministry of Magic requesting more  
information.  
  
"Well at least we're all exempt," Harry said.  
  
"Not all of us," Hermione whispered. Harry and Ron followed her gaze towards the head table where the staff sat; some looking stunned, and others mad as hell, namely Professor Snape.  
  
---------------------------------- A/N- I'm not dumb... I know a baby is followed by afterbirth, but I figured that was one unpleasant thing I could leave out and no one would really make a fuss.  
  
This was a short chapter; expect upcoming chapters to be longer. My introductory chapters always turn out pretty short. 


	2. Buying a Cow You Don't Want

Severus' letter had arrived shortly the next day. The ministry had set it up so that ministry workers would be sent out among the different shelters, and soon-to-be parents would be referred to the closest establishment to "choose" their new children. Of coarse, Hogwarts itself was housing children, so no trip had to be made.

At three o'clock Madam Pomphrey came to take over Severus' class of fourth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. He had been dreading it all day, and it was time. Time to start the worst thing in his life, except maybe becoming a Death Eater.

Children; crying, laughing, running children. He despised them with a passion he had not felt sense the Dark Lord's last breath. Not that he hated the actual children themselves, but they represented the power that the ministry had over him. He was tired of people lording over him, as if he needed help living.

He gritted his teeth and strode over to a thin woman with tacky turquoise robes and a clipboard.

"Ah! You must be Mr. Snape, how nice to meet you," she replied cheerfully. We've drawn up a list of likely..."

"That's Professor Snape, and if you don't mind, I would very much like to just browse before I make a commitment," he bit out and brushed passed the woman.

"Well... that should... just be sure to... oh forget it," she stuttered, as Snape wasn't even listening to her.

There were close to seventy children, all looking rather dazed and frightened. He couldn't blame them; he had always evoked that sort of reaction. He could imagine the silent prayers going up that he would not pick them.

He definitely didn't want an infant, and he could see several bassinets and play pins set up in a corner. No doubt there were a lot of women who would be thrilled to take home a new baby. He didn't have to feel guilty about that.

He couldn't even begin to know how to care for a toddler. They wet the bed, and draw on the walls with crayons, and they're always growing out of their clothes.

He looked around for older children. He spotted some girls that looked about ten putting make up on each other and giggling. He mentally scratched out girls on his list. He didn't even want to imagine what that would be like.

He finally spotted a potential specimen. A boy who looked as if he might be about sixteen, sitting alone in a corner on top of a rather large looking trunk. He walked over to the kid, and on closer inspection was a little bit frightened of him, which was saying something. It was obvious why he had caught his eye.

He had on baggy black pants with chains, zippers, safety pins, and other non-functional accessories. A black t-shirt with "311" printed on the front, and more chains around his neck, along with something that looked suspiciously like bicycle chain and military dog tags. His ear was pierced with what, at a second glance, Severus realized was a nail bent into a hoop.

His hair was shaggy, jet-black, and looked as if it hadn't been brushed in several months, which reminded Severus of Potter, except that this boy had red streaks here and there. His eyes were the most unsettling things about him, because they were a stark contrast to his all black attire; pale blue, like ice.

His arms were also decked out, with a wide black leather band on the right with a watch face snapped onto it. Severus mentally noted that he must be left-handed. His right arm had a smaller black band with silver spikes. Two rings, one of a nautical star, and the other looked out of place. It was small, only big enough for his pinky, and was gold, unlike all the silver. Two tiny leaves on a plain band. Severus wondered about it. And horror of all horrors, all far as Severus was concerned, his fingernails were painted black.

Even though Severus stood directly in front of him, the boy did not actually acknowledge him until he spoke.

"What is your name?" Severus asked.

The boy just stared at him hard, as if evaluating the situation, whether or not he should answer. "Damian."

How fitting, Severus thought. Damian, a name of Greek origin, means to tame.

"You are from the Americas?"

"Yeah. Is there a point to all this questioning? Could you just hurry up and move on?" he answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was under the impression that you needed a home. I'm sure it's awfully hard being picked through like cattle, but I assure you it's just as degrading to be forced into adopting a kid you don't want," Severus bit out.

"Way to make me feel comfortable, comparing me with a cow you don't want," Damian said back.

"I will not take such disrespect." Severus barked.

"I suppose you never heard that little saying, the one that says you should treat others the way you want to be treated. I thought I was doing pretty good."

Severus was fuming.

"Uh, sir?" a voice from beside him said.

"WHAT?" he snarled. The lady in the turquoise robes jumped, and looked as if she wished to be anywhere else on the planet.

"Well, there are many others that are scheduled to come in today, and your session is almost up. I was wondering if you had made your selection..."

"I'll take this one," Severus snapped. "Does he come with a leash?" he hissed.

She tittered at his joke, and wrote something on her clipboard. "Sign here please," and handed him a quill.

He scribbled out his signature, and she left.

"I suppose those are you school things?" Severus asked, pointing to his trunk.

"No, I don't have any school stuff yet. That's just my guitars, amp, clothes, that sort of thing."

"Why arent you in school yet anyway, this is a School after all?" Severus asked tersely.

"I didn't have any money to pay tuition," he said, sounding a little embarrassed, but proud as all get out.

"Well that will change. You'll start tomorrow. We'll go get your school things in town today. And I never want to see fingernail polish on your nails again, or an earring. Is that understood?"

"The earring stays," Damian said defiantly.

"I don't think so," Severus said.

"I do. Compromise is better than nothing. Take it or leave it."

"Understand this," Severus barked. "You will respect me, and if you embarrass me I will punish you."

"That's fine, as long as you don't try to control me. I won't wear the polish if I can wear the earring. I want respect too, and you can handle that, I think this might work out. Oh, and I hope you don't expect me to call you father, because you'll be holding your breath for a LONG time."

"I shudder at the thought," Severus answered, "You may refer to me an Professor Snape or Sir. Now follow me. We'll have a house elf bring your trunk down."

Severus noticed that Damian looked around curiously as they walked through the corridors. The clink of the chains on his pants reverberated on the stone walls. "So you're a teacher here? What do you teach?"

"I am the Potions Master of the school," Severus answered.

"That's cool I guess. Potions is a pretty good subject for me, but I'm better in transfiguration."

"They reached Severus' quarters. "The password is sol lucet. Do not bring anyone in here without asking me first."

They entered into a den with a fireplace, leather sofa, two armchairs, and a coffee table. Damian could see into a room full of bookshelves on the right and an open kitchen to the left. There were two more closed doors.

"That's my room over there, do not go in there at any time unless under my specific order. The other door is the guestroom and bathroom, which will be yours. You can do whatever you want to it. You're free to use the kitchen as you please, but you'll be taking your meals in the great hall, so I doubt you'll need it. I would prefer that you use the school library, mine wouldn't be of much use to you anyway."

It had occurred to Severus that if his charge was old enough to attend school, that he could live in the dormitory of whatever house he was, but of coarse Dumbledore had other plans. He thought that it would be better if he stayed in his quarters, for "bonding" purposes.

Severus finished his spiel by saying, "I have a class to get back to, so make yourself at home. Ah, you also might want to see Headmaster Dumbledore about going into town, and getting yourself enrolled. I'll be very busy today, and I'm sure he could arrange something for you."

Damian found himself alone in a new place, but he didn't feel as depressed he thought he would be. He would definitely have to work on this Snape guy, but things could be worse.

He opened the guestroom door. The walls were white. That would have to change. On further inspection, he realized there was nothing to inspect. The room was absolutely empty, excepting his trunk that the elves had already brought down.

"Thank the Gods for transfiguration" he said aloud. But what would he transfigure? He found some towels in a closet and proceeded to make his room suitable.

When he was done he had a bed with black hangings, black silk sheets and a blood red comforter. His trunk was at the end of his bed. The walls were also black, with black lights lining the ceiling, making the neon on his posters glow when the lights were off. Red shag carpet, a plain dark wood dresser, desk, and a bookshelf running the length of one wall finished it off nicely. His electric guitar stood in one corner next to the amplifier, and the aucoustic was in its case under the bed.

It was only four o'clock, so he decided to find the Headmaster. Thankfully, he found him in a corridor, which tuned out to be right in front of his office.

"Hello sir, my name is Damian Martini. I guess I'm Snape's kid now."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Anyway, I need to be enrolled, and then somehow I need to go to town and buy some school things."

"That can be arranged. You'll be sorted tomorrow at breakfast, and Hagrid has a free period now, so I'm sure he can take you down to the village," Dumbledore answered. "And it's nice to meet you Damian."

Damian found himself walking around with Hagrid the half giant buying school supplies in Hogsmead. Snape had a had an account with all the stores, even the quidditch shop, so he didn't have to worry about money.

They passed a pet shop, and Hagrid stopped. "We got ter git yer animal."

"I don't know if Professor Snape would like that..." Damian started.

"Nonsense. Anyone who's anyone has got an animal."

They entered the shop, and Damian looked around at all the animals. He saw owls, but he didn't expect he'd be sending or receiving much mail, now that he had no family. That thought sent a twinge of sadness and emptiness through him, but he moved on.

By the way he dressed and acted, you wouldn't think that Damian would like kittens. But he had a soft spot for them. One small grey one caught his attention; a wild hellion of the first order. He picked it up and it bit him. He decided he wanted it. It bit him again, and kicked at his hand with his hind legs, trying to get away.

"What yer goin' ter name im'?" Hagrid asked as they walked back towards the school.

"Demon, because he sure as hell acts like one," Damian replied.

Wow! I realize it's been FOREVER sinse I posted the first chapter, but here it is, chapter number 2! Look for more chapters soon.


	3. He needs to Get Laid

Hermione woke up early in the morning to the sound of Gwen crying. She got up, and as soon as she picked her up, the crying stopped. That was a good sign. She seamed to have calmed down a bit after a few hours of not being able to cry. She would have to thank Snape.

An hour later, she got Gwen dressed and headed down to breakfast. She sat with her friends, and put Gwen in the special high chair Dumbledore had put next to the trios usual seats.

Dumbledore stood shortly after she arrived and asked for everyone's attention. "We have a few new students who need to be sorted. Damian Martini, seventh year, please come up here."

Damian got up and went to the stool that Dumbledore motioned for him to sit in. Then the sorting hat was placed on his head. "Gryffindor!" the hat exclaimed.

The Gryffindor table cheered and a few students sent curious glances at the new student as he made his way to his new house table.

Severus groaned inwardly. Just what he needed; another Gryffindor troublemaker. And this one was under his care. He should have expected that.

"Mia Taylor, sixth year," Dumbledore called.

A girl about 5 feet 2 inches walked toward the stage. She had waist length curly cinnamon brown hair, green eyes, and a nice smile. She was Professor McGonagal's new daughter.

"Slytherin!" the hat yelled.

After the initial shock, Minerva stood up and clapped for Mia as she went to sit with her peers.

Then there was Professor Sprouts first year boy named Chris who was sorted into Ravenclaw.

After that, everyone went back to what they were doing. The irony that the house heads children had all gone to their adversaries house was not lost on Hermione. She took the time to appreciate things like that now.

The first class of the day was double potions with Slytherin, which was no surprise. With all the other children around, there was no one to be spared to look after Gwen for Hermione, unless she wanted to leave her with the bulk of them in the infirmary, and she didn't want to do that. So Dumbledore had decided that a playpen could be set up in each of her classes.

This pissed Snape off to no end. But he had new and more trying problems now that Damian was under his care. He knew absolutely nothing about the kid, except that he wasn't really a kid at all. He was seventeen after all. Which in itself was a good thing. After this school year he would be out in the real world starting his own life.

Still, a year of playing father wasn't going to be easy. He resolved to find out more about Damian in the near future, which meant he would inevitably have to talk to him. He knew the kinds of things people Damian's age were doing, and he wasn't looking forward to this interrogation.

He realized that the next few days were crucial. The people Damian latched onto as friends would have a lot to do with how this whole situation would turn out. Unfortunately, his friends would almost certainly turn out being Gryffindors. Severus would have to keep a close eye out to see whom Damian would buddy up with.

After class was over, Damian walked over to Gwen's playpen. Gwen's hair was blonde, which would most likely change, and her eyes were deep blue.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked. She had no idea what he was doing.

"Oh sorry," Damian replied sadly. "She reminds me of my baby sister."

"Oh. Her name is Gwendolyn Love Granger, and I'm Hermione."

"My sisters name was Caitlin, she was only two months old," he said hollowly as if he weren't entirely there. "They didn't even have the decency to use the killing curse. It would have been painless that way, no struggle. They... they put Imperious on my mother and made her smother Caitlin with the pillow from her crib. I was made to watch..."

Hermione stared horror struck at him. She struggled to hold back tears. It was another reminder that she had so many things to be thankful for...

"I'm sorry... it's easier to tell people that I don't know. They don't judge," Damian apologized.

"It's ok. I'm always around if you need to talk. Why don't you come up to the Gryffindor common room with me after our next class and I'll introduce you to my friends?" Hermione asked.

"That would be nice. Do you think maybe... maybe I could hold Gwen?" Damian asked sheepishly.

"Sure," Hermione said cheerfully, and lifted her out of the playpen.

Damian smiled softly as Hermione handed him the baby. They walked together, Damian holding Gwen, to transfiguration for their next class.

Severus had witnessed the whole thing. His heart went out to Damian when he described the death of his baby sister. But even so he couldn't help but dread what was to come. Damian had taken the first step to becoming friends with the troublesome trio. He had to admit though, there was a lot he didn't know about Damian.

After transfiguration, Damian followed Hermione into the Gryffindor common room. They approached a corner where Ron and Harry had just dumped themselves into some chairs and looked as if they were preparing to play a game of wizard's chess.

"Hey guys, this is Damian Martini," Hermione said, gesturing to Damian, who was once again holding Gwen.

"Let me put her to bed. It's time for her afternoon nap. You guys introduce yourselves, and then we can all go down for lunch," Hermione said.

"Sure thing Mione," Ron said. Hermione walked off with Gwen.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself, "and this is my friend Ron Weasley."

"No shit, Harry Potter? That's psychotically sick man," Damian said.

"You must be from America," Ron said, laughing.

"Born and raised a Yank," Damian said. "Actually, technically, being from Florida, I'm not really considered a Yankee. But over in the states Florida is known as the southern Yankee state anyway."

"Right..." Harry said, "You're all the same to us."

Damian shed his outer robes and dropped into an armchair with one boot-clad leg draped over the arm. Ron and Harry took in the black pants, zippers, chains, and combat boots. Ron couldn't help but smile at his black T-shirt that had a demonic red smiley face and read "Lead me not into temptation, I can find it myself".

"Wow..." they heard Hermione say. "That's some oufit."

"I love the reaction..." Damian teased. "No, actually, it's all about the music."

"I never got that impression from the Weird Sisters..."

"Hell no! Muggle rock kicks ass. I'm all about the heavy metal, and the punk rock."

"Right... um... lets go to lunch?" Ron said. His stomach was making funny noises. "It's hungry," Ron said, patting his tummy.

"You treat you stomach like it were a pet or something," Hermione said.

In the great hall, they all sat down and filled their plates. Herminoe took small portions. She was still trying to get her old figure back.

"You guys play any instruments?" Damian asked at the table after he was done eating.

"Nope. How about quidditch? Do you play quidditch?" Ron asked.

"Sure I play quidditch. I played chaser for my old school. We didn't have houses, so we played inter-school matches. It was a lot different over there. The schools were set up just like public schools. You were zoned for the closest one, and you still lived at home with your family. And you have middle and high schools, and grades, not years. It's all very different."

"What do you play, I mean instrument?" Hermione asked. "All these guys ever want to talk about is quidditch, so the original subject almost always gets lost. You'll learn to ignore it eventually."

"I play quitar. I was in a band with a few of my friends. I just wanted to know if any of yall (Ron snickered at that word) played anything. I thought maybe we might do something together."

"Oh. I play the violin, but I doubt that would be of much use to your kind of music," Hermione admitted.

"I didn't know you played the violin," Ron said, showing her a mouthful of masticated food.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, now shut up with your mouth full. You're the only one who can't see how ignorant it makes you look," Hermione said. Ron glared at her.

"Actually, the violin is very useful in my music. It ads a lot to certain songs," Damian said.

"I think Seamus plays the drums doesn't he?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Uh... I don't know."

"Well, we'll figure it out later. Maybe we can get a little band put together," Hermione said enthusiastically. She was a little high on the idea that her violin playing might actually serve some purpose.

"So are you going out for the house team?" Ron asked.

"What?" Damian asked.

"He means quidditch. I told you quidditch is all they ever want to talk about," Hermione groaned, putting emphasis on the word quidditch.

"That's not true Hermione. I can tell you about how sexy Ginny looked last night," Harry said slyly.

Ron's eyes bulged and he turned red in anger. "You didn't.... I'll kill you..." he yelled.

"Calm down mate, I was just teasing."

"When are the quidditch tryouts?" Damian asked.

"I'm the team captain," Harry said, "So as long as you're any good at all you're a shoe-in. We haven't had many good chasers lately. Tryouts are Saturday after lunch on the quidditch pitch."

"I'll be there," Damian said, and got up to go get his book for Herbology and Arthmancy.

After the day's classes were over and he had finished his lesson plans for the next day, Severus headed down to his quarters. On entering, his ears were assaulted with some very loud noise. After a moment, he realized that it was a guitar. Oh god he thought, Damian actually plays that thing.

He then saw an atrocity that just screamed "teenager". On the outside of Damian's door there was a flashing neon sign that read "Martini" in pink, with a green martini glass complete with olive.

He threw open Damian's door., to see Damian jumping around the room in boxer shorts and a wife beater, throwing his shaggy hair back and forth, playing his electric guitar. He looked over to the amp and noticed the volume was all the way up. 'Oh for the love of the gods...' Severus thought.

Damian realized he wasn't alone and stopped playing. "You like it? I wrote it myself," he asked.

"It's wonderful," Severus said sarcastically. "Maybe you could play it on the acoustic? You think? Save the electric for real performances." He hoped to the gods there wouldn't be a real performance.

"Sure thing Snape," Damian said.

Severus rolled his eyes at being called Snape. But then, Professor was a bit formal, so maybe he would give him the one luxury of dropping the Professor title.

"Soooooo... did you want something or something?" Damian asked.

Stupid teenagers always saying 'like' or 'or something' Severus thought. "Yes, actually, I thought we might talk..."

"This isn't going to be that birds and the bees thing is it? Cuz I gotta tell ya, you're a little late for that one," Damian said.

"No," Severus said, "now kindly hold your tongue so that I can get a word in. I merely wished to learn a bit more about you."

"Alright then, shoot," Damian threw himself onto his bed and got ready to listen.

Severus decided that was his queue to start asking questions. "I doubt you'd care to just tell me about yourself, so I'll just ask some yes or no questions."

Damian sighed. Severus decided taking to Damian was something he would avoid at all costs.

"Do you have ANY family at all left? Any distant relations?" he asked.

"No. Why? Want to get rid of me already?" Damian said sarcastically. Severus could tell it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Severus asked. Just what he wanted, a randy seventeen year old trying to sneak a girl into the castle.

"No, not at the current time," Damian said. Something came across his face and he added, "I hope your not trying to come out of the closet, so to speak, because I'm straight."

Severus wanted to throw up. Why did teenagers do that? They think everything any one says was meant with innuendo. "Even if I was that way, which I'm not, I highly doubt I'd be hitting on you."

"You don't do drugs do you?" Severus asked.

"Why? You want to sell me some? Just kidding. No I don't do drugs. Tried em' a few times. Not my thing."

"Good. I might as well let you know I won't put up with any smoking, drinking, or drugs while you're living here. Do you have a name you would rather go by? I hear in America a lot of people go by their middle or nick names," Severus asked.

"Well, my friends used to call me Demon, but that was just for the band. I think I got pretty lucky with Damian," he said.

All of a sudden Demon, the kitten, ran from under the bed and launched himself at Severus robes. Latching on with extended claws, he started to climb up. Severus spun around, trying to throw him off, and Damian jumped up and snatched the grey fuzz-ball.

"Oh, this is my cat Demon," Damian said. "I hope you don't mind..."

"Of coarse not," Severus mumbled. "I guess that's all for now. Do your homework."

"But..."

"I don't want to hear it. You will do as I say. Normally I could care less if students do their homework, but you being careless with your studies would reflect badly on me among my colleagues."

"Fine."

"Fine," Severus said as he left, but was cut off by the door slamming in his face.

Damian couldn't help but think that Snape really needed to get laid. On second thought, he needed a girlfriend; a companion. He was very alone, and Damian decided that's what was wrong with him.


	4. Man Hunt the Delicate Proccess

Hmmm... a rather short chapter. School has been canceled for the next three days, and I was ecstatic at the extra time I would have to write, until I realized I was going to have to evacuate. Damn Hurricane Ivan. But I wanted to get a chapter up before I left. At this rate, I'm not going to meet the challenge deadline. Oh well, I'll finish it anyway...

Mia Taylor ran towards the quidditch pitch. Gryffindor tryouts were just about over, and then Slytherin tryouts would start.

She didn't actually play herself, but she wanted to see the end of Gryffindors tryouts so she could dish out the dirt on this year's team to her housemates. After that, she planned on looking good for all the Slytherin guys that would be trying out.

No one was in the sky anymore. Now everyone was crowding around waiting for Harry Potter to announce who had made the team. This was as close as she had ever been to the boy-who-lived, and she still couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about.

"Alright, calm down everyone," he yelled over the talking students. "You all did very well, but as you know, there are only nine spots on a team. I have chosen the following people."

"Ron Weasley as keeper."

Ron whooped and cheered for himself. Mia had seen Ron around school. His little sister was in some of her classes. Ginny was nice, but she couldn't help thinking Ron was a bit annoying. He didn't do anything for her.

"Amber Duncan, Malorie Hampton, and Damian Martini as our three seekers."

Amber and Malorie were both returning players, and were only in their fifth year. Mia could care less about them. But that last one, Damian, looked pretty good; pretty damn good.

"Griffin and Falcon Weaver as our beaters," Harry said. Griffin and Falcon were brothers, one in sixth year and the other in fifth. They looked a lot alike, with blonde hair and blue eyes. They were tall and lean, with lightly defined muscles.

They were any girls' dream, which was evident with all the Gryffindor bimbos hanging all over them, she thought. Mia admitted they looked good, but they were dumb jocks, and a voice in her head kept reminder her that she had been there and done that.

"And myself as Seeker and team Captain," Harry finished. "Would those eight please stay after so that I can explain how practices will work, and when our first match is scheduled."

The crowd dispersed, leaving the selected few on the field. Soon Harry had said his piece and they started to walk to the castle.

Mia was the kind of person who was always on the look out for the love of her life. So far she'd been through a lot of relationships that never took off, and she still hadn't found that special one. She knew a lot of people thought that it would just happen, but she didn't think so. If she was ever going to be happy, she was going to have to do it herself, because she had always had the distinct feeling that no one was looking for her.

Her mother, god rest her sole, had taught her to shop around. She had learned early that all that crap about not judging people before you know them is a bunch of bull shit. If it looks like a dog, and scratches like a dog, it probably has fleas like a dog. That was her philosophy. So she had some tricks up her sleeve; little things she always checked out on a guy before she so much as took a step closer.

Damian's boots were tied nicely, and the laces weren't all frayed on the ends like they spent a lot of time being stepped on. That was a point in his favor; he obviously had a sense of organization.

Clean-shaven. Any guy who couldn't find the time to keep himself shaved obviously didn't have time for her.

His fly was zipped, which was point number three. That meant he wasn't forgetful.

He flashed a smile and she gave him another point for keeping up with dental hygiene. That was a sign that he actually cared about the way he looked. She didn't want the kind of guy who only showered once every two weeks and would inevitably acquire a beer gut as he got a bit older.

And finally, she looked up and down his arms for any scarring. Having none brought him up to five points. That meant that he wasn't cutting himself or shooting heroine.

She decided he was worthy and took out her compact to make sure all her make-up still looked like it should. She put on a little more lip-gloss and walked over to him. Once they got to five points they were at least worth a shot.

"Hey, you're Damian right?" She asked. He smelled good. She gave him another point.

"Yeah," he said. "You're that girl who got sorted into Slytherin. Mia, right?"

"Yeah. Professor McGonagal said that you were quite good in transfiguration," Mia said, trying to sound cute, but not desperate. She didn't want to scare him off this early.

"I guess you could say that," he said.

"Well I was wondering if maybe we could set up some study sessions? I'm not doing so well in that subject." That was one of the most important aspects of talking to a possible boyfriend for the first time; inadvertently setting up a date.

"Sure. I'll have to check in with my parental unit to see if it's ok with him that I have someone over. I'll get back to you about when," Damian said. "See you later."

He walked away towards Harry and they headed for the castle. Mia was proud of the way she had handled that. The Slytherins were coming towards the pitch, and she went back to sit in the stands.

Harry nudged Damian as they walked towards the castle, "So...."

"So what?" Damian asked.

"That girl. What did she want?" Harry asked.

"Oh. She just wanted to set up some study sessions. She's having trouble in transfiguration, and Professor McGonagal mentioned me," he answered.

"What did you say?"

"I said sure, what's it to you anyway?" Damian asked, wondering if there was a point behind this questioning.

"Nothing, she just looked like she might be interested in you. That's all," Harry said. "I thought you might be getting some action."

"She just wanted a tutor," Damian said.

"Sure," Harry said, and they passed through the doors into the castle. "We've got just enough time to get showers before we're supposed to meet Hermione in the library to pick topics for our History of Magic projects. This history fair idea is the lamest thing I ever heard of. Leave it to Dumbledore..."

"See you there," Damian said as he turned off onto a stairwell leading to the dungeons. Down in his quarters, Snape was grading papers at a desk in the library.

"Sir?" he asked.

"What? And be quick, I'm busy," Severus snapped.

"A Slytherin girl, Mia Taylor, wants to know if I could help her study in Transfiguration. I was wondering if it would be ok if she came down once or twice a week until she gets the hang of transfiguring," Damian asked.

"Fine. Anything else?" Severus asked.

"Well, what day and time would be the best time for her to come? I don't know when you don't want company or whatever."

"Tuesdays and Thursdays after dinner. That's when I have students serve detention, so I won't be here to be bothered."

"Oh, I made the quidditch team, so I'll have practices on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights after dinner."

"Well I suppose you'll be quite busy between tutoring and practices," Snape said. That was a godsend as far as he was concerned. He wouldn't have to spend as much time trying to think of things to say.

"I guess so," Damian said before scuffling off to his room. Once inside, he shed his clothes and jumped into the shower.

Clean warm water replaced the sweat that clung to his body. He ran his finger across the scar above his heart. He could remember the feel of the blade slicing into his skin, the death eater's rough voice taking pleasure in describing how he would slowly cut his heart out.

Then the death eater had stopped cutting to assist a fellow death eater who had yelled out in pain. His twelve-year-old sister, Heather, had buried a kitchen knife in his shoulder blade. The last words his sister ever spoke were to ask if he were all right. He could see the death eater coming back from over her shoulder...

All of a sudden more people arrived, he supposed they were the "good guys", and the death eaters started to run for the back door. Before he left, the death eater pulled Heather's head back by the hair and slit her throat with the same knife that she had buried in his shoulder minutes early.

Damian leaned against the shower wall and slowly slid to the floor. The water beat against him. The droplets reminded him of the tears he cried while holding Heather's limp body while she bled out, her blood mingling with his own.

His whole life was gone, yet he was still breathing. His mother's body down the hall slumped over the crib of his lifeless baby sister. Heather was dead because she tried to help him. Why couldn't she have just run? She might have gotten away.

Where had his father been during all this? The sadness he felt boiled away into pure hatred. He had left all of them right after he had learned that Caitlin was on the way. Damian hoped he was dead. Maybe if he had stayed, things would have been different.

With the new baby, they had needed a bigger house, but they couldn't afford it. Damian could remember a time when anything the family needed, his father would make sure they had it. They wouldn't have even been living there if he had stayed; if he had cared.

Damian decided he didn't really feel up to meeting his new friends at the library. For a minute he worried that they would be upset with him, but he couldn't bring himself to go.

He got out of the shower and dressed in some green pajama pants and a black undershirt. Slipping out of his room quietly, he headed to the kitchen. 'Thank god for Cherry Coke' he thought, pulling a can from the fridge.

"What is all that in my fridge anyway?" Snape implored.

Damian jumped. "It's Cherry Coke; my life force. I'd die without it," he said bluntly.

"Well then it's a good thing there's such a large supply of it," Severus eyed the top two shelves of his refrigerator, which were packed with soda cans.

"I was surprised you actually had a fridge here," Damian said. "We only had one back home because we lived in a muggle built home that already had all the household appliances."

"Yes, well, I find it rather useful. How did you get all that Coke here? Where did it come from?" Severus inquired.

"There's this new shop in Hogsmeade that just opened called Muggle Delicatessens. It's full of muggle stuff, mostly food items. They'll probably do really well. There were a lot of curious witches and wizards in there. They just need employees who can actually explain things to them," Damian explained. "They also need someone who knows what these things normally would cost, because I bought a twelve pack of this stuff for as much as a piece of chewing gum would have cost me back home."

"You know a lot about muggles don't you?" Severus asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. My dad was a muggle. We lived in a muggle subdivision. I went to a muggle elementary school. I had muggle friends. We bought our groceries and clothes in muggle stores, mostly because my dad made muggle money," Damian replied.

Severus decided that he should come clean about his past right away. This boy had reason to hate him more than almost anyone he knew, and he didn't want for Damian to hear about what he was from anyone else.

He took a deep breathe. "There is something I think I should tell you, if you don't mind."

"Sure... you wanna sit down or something?" Damian asked, pulling out a chair from the small dining table and sitting down.

Severus took the seat on the other side of the table and just stared into space, debating over how he should start.

"I am not a good man. I've done terrible things in my lifetime... so bad I do not pretend to deserve life. But I have tried to repent over the last few years, and I know it will never change what I have done, but I have made a pact with myself to spend the rest of my life working to make things right."

"You really know how to get right down to it don't you? Are we going to arrive at a point or what?" Damian wasn't really in the mood for this. He just wanted to chug his coke and go to his room. At least now he could have a real excuse for his new friends though.

Severus didn't know exactly how to come out and say it, so he rolled up his sleeve and held out his arm, exposing the mark. "I'm a death eater..."

Damian choked on his coke and stared at Snape like a deer caught in the headlights. There was no way he could ever live with this man...


End file.
